


A Night In Stark Tower

by VitaLupum



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, No Slash, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VitaLupum/pseuds/VitaLupum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are asleep... mostly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night In Stark Tower

It was night-time in Stark Tower. Beads of moonlight trickled through the gaps in the blinds as all slept, the sound of the city slowly snoring to itself, taxis and late-night soirees rumbling below them.

Tony Stark lay on his stomach with one hand curled under the pillow, breathing light and even. His feet hung out from under the covers, but as JARVIS regulated each room's temperature based on the person within's personal tastes, he was nice and warm. The other side of the bed was cold though; tonight, Pepper was in Texas, after some business conference. As he shifted his head, a snuffling grunt escaping his mouth, he reached out and draped his arm over that side of the bed.

Steve, in his room, was curled up in the foetal position, arms wrapped around his pillow. His covers had vanished, in a heap on the floor, and he slept in a thin beam of moonlight that picked out the gold in his hair. He was dreaming; about his old life, about Bucky, about Peggy. As he slumbered, reliving years gone by in his dreams, a smile was picked out on his lips.

Bruce was asleep in the lab. Slumber had overtaken him as he worked on some calculations for his and Tony's latest ambitious scheme, and he had gradually slumped onto the desk, head resting on his arm as he slumbered. A mosquito landed on his arm, and bit into him. For a moment, the skin turned green, a muscle flexed, and the mosquito exploded due to the pressure. The Hulk smiled in the midst of his dreams, and then Bruce snored gently.

Thor and Loki, on a brief visit from Asgard, slept as they always had – mattresses side by side on the floor. In Asgard, when they had both been princes, their beds had been beautifully soft feather mattresses, set into gold frames in the floor of their shared room – Loki's had been a pattern of jasmine flowers and stars, Thor's calla lilies and the bright sun. Here, their mattresses were dragged from the beds and placed side by side, because, despite what Loki may have said, sentiment was all he had.

Thor snored loudly, stretched as widely as he could be. Mjolnir lay at his feet; not out of any distrust of Loki, for how could the Jötunn hope to wield it? but for safety's sake and sentiment. Loki slept as far away from Thor as was possible, head almost dropping from the edge of the pillow; occasionally he would start awake, aquamarine eyes flickering wildly from side to side as he struggled to remember where he was… and then he would hear a snore from Thor, and would, occasionally, smile. Mostly, he would merely elbow his brother in the stomach and return to his catlike rest.

Natasha was asleep too, her red hair fanning out on the pillow like a mermaid in the sea. She had been having trouble sleeping, recently; having Loki live with them was giving nobody the rest they needed, but she put up with it, mainly because they were beginning to see a new side to the trickster. Childish, naïve, helpless, a little shy; the child Thor assured them he had been. Tonight, though, she slept like a log, fingers clutched around the edge of the duvet. She was dreaming of a meadow, a lush meadow of blue and purple and other psychedelic colours that kangaroos hopped around in. There's no accounting for taste, in dreams.

Clint was in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. His eyes were haunted by mad dreams, horrible dreams of darkness and monsters and waiting madness. Planets floating on the wind, space drifting by like a creature in the deep. He felt for Loki, more than anyone in the house, because he had seen. When he had been under his influence, he had seen his fall from the Bifrost. He could still see it now. He took a gulp of his coffee, and sighed. He'd still kick the little bastard's teeth in, though.


End file.
